I've taken a break from telling our story, mainly because the gut-wrenching portion of my tale had been told. But on this Friday, two years ago, something very special happened which makes me want to finish our journey in writing.
I last left off by sharing that our precious Dr. C found three heartbeats on that March 31st day much to all of our surprise. The remaining six months are somewhat of a blur. I ate religiously from a very specific list of foods with very specific vitamins and minerals. The books said to gain weight early since the babies would come early and weight gain in the first two trimesters was key. So ate I did. For the first time in my life I was trying to make sure I got over 3,000 calories a day. And I started wearing flats (which anyone who knows me knows I never go into the office in less than 3 inches). People at the office started asking if I was pregnant in my NINTH week so I had to begin telling people at my firm several weeks before I had planned. As you might imagine, news that I was carrying triplets was met with quite a spectrum of responses - we got everything from "you are so blessed," to "I am so sorry." (I'm not kidding.)
Bray continued to process the news. He struggled. He worried - about everything. I won't attempt to tell his side of the story, but from my perspective, he really settled into the news and started getting excited after week 20. At that point, I was still in very good health, the babies were all growing bigger than expected, and we'd discovered by then that there was a boy and a girl hanging out in utero (we didn't find out about Mr. Sam, who at the time was Mr. Will, until several weeks later). I was elated. I decorated the nursery with reckless abandon in my long-planned Raggedy Ann & Andy theme (I'd collected items for the nursery for years). Bray painted the room. Bray built a bookshelf. By week 24 he started driving me into work. By week 26 I went on bedrest at home and worked from a hospital bed he set up in the den. I went on strict bed rest by week 28 - bathroom breaks were my only reprieve and I continued expanding at a stunning rate. I fell in the street going to the doctor for my bi-weekly check up about that time and wrenched the devil out of my ankle but fortunately did not break it and avoided having to be in a cast during a c-section.
Then Monday of week 32 hit. We were right on track. We felt confident at this point, despite my unbelievable discomfort, that we would hit the 34 week mark we'd so prayed for during the pregnancy. I had my check up and was resting at home when I got a call from the doctor. I should be admitted immediately as my blood work showed pronounced preeclampsia. I called Bray in tears and he rushed to pick me up. They gave me steroid shots for the babies lungs and ran a lot more tests in the hospital. The neonatologist came and told me everything that could go wrong with them coming this early. Everyone prayed. The next morning my blood work came back spotless. Perfect. No preeclampsia. They ran another slate of tests. Wednesday morning my blood work came back spotless. They released me. Unfortunately, that was short-lived.
Apparently, while in the hospital, I had been exposed to and contracted swine flu or something similar. By Thursday night I couldn't breath or move and was rushed back to the hospital at 2 am. Bray was a rock. He never left my side. I could handle everything only because he was there. I had specialist care around the clock for two days - always told they could likely deliver the babies on a moments notice because infection was very difficult to manage pregnant. I began to improve. My church pastor came to pray. Friends sent flowers and prayers and food. I was admitted for the duration so that the babies could be monitored around the clock and I could have the bed rest enforced. Monday of Week 33 came and went. On Wednesday, they got some suspicious looking tests - preeclampsia again. Thursday morning the tests started looking worse. My amazing Dr. R, the perinatologist that my fertility doctor recommended, told us that if the results had not changed by Friday morning he would have to deliver the babies. He took us in for an ultrasound and they all measured over 4 pounds, a strong sign he said. We called our parents. I told my dad I was pretty sure they wouldn't deliver me on Friday, but he drove all night from Oklahoma anyways. Mom camped out at the hospital. Bray's parents drove in from Louisiana. Everyone waited for Friday's results.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Can I Just Cry On Your Shoulder Today?
About the most trivial thing in the whole world. And I know I just wrote about sometimes okay being good enough. But I have put blood, sweat and tears into making the kids 2nd birthday picture perfect. It's the first party we invited friends to and I had the precious custom invites ordered for their "barnyard bash" theme because they love the farm and animals. Then I had a big sign and custom cupcake picks ordered to match the invitations exactly. I have farm animal balloons. I have farm plates and cups. I have these adorable personalized napkins with their name and ages. Plus I designed these farm animal birthday party shirts where the farm animal is wearing a party hat with the number 2 and each child's name is underneath the farm animal face. I love planning parties but never more so than for my kids.
It's sort of unraveling. First, the outfits got finished late so instead of me getting them shipped my mom had to pick them up last night. But she's working super late today and tomorrow so I'll either get them 30 minutes before the party or have to run up to Cypress tonight late to pick them up. But the huge disappointment is that the cupcakes were the centerpiece of the gift table. And they have these gorgeous cupcake picks (that I spent some money on) for each cupcake, each one featuring a farm animal and a child's name. It's identical to our invites and to the big custom sign. Well, the sign and the cupcake picks are lost. Lost somewhere in the mail system, they should have already been to me by the first of the week (I ordered a month ago) and the designer is frantically trying to track them down but I'm not optimistic. She said she'd remake them all but there's no way they will get to me, the sign or the cupcake picks, by Saturday morning. So I'm so sad this morning. I realize it is ridiculous, and if I told my husband how totally upset I was about this turn of events he'd think I needed medication, but I really worked hard to make sure it would be perfect and now it isn't. And there's nothing I can do about it. And it makes me sad.
Here's the pictures of the lost cupcake picks:
And here's a pic of the invite and the cute little sleeves they came in (with horses and cows and pigs and chicks):
It's sort of unraveling. First, the outfits got finished late so instead of me getting them shipped my mom had to pick them up last night. But she's working super late today and tomorrow so I'll either get them 30 minutes before the party or have to run up to Cypress tonight late to pick them up. But the huge disappointment is that the cupcakes were the centerpiece of the gift table. And they have these gorgeous cupcake picks (that I spent some money on) for each cupcake, each one featuring a farm animal and a child's name. It's identical to our invites and to the big custom sign. Well, the sign and the cupcake picks are lost. Lost somewhere in the mail system, they should have already been to me by the first of the week (I ordered a month ago) and the designer is frantically trying to track them down but I'm not optimistic. She said she'd remake them all but there's no way they will get to me, the sign or the cupcake picks, by Saturday morning. So I'm so sad this morning. I realize it is ridiculous, and if I told my husband how totally upset I was about this turn of events he'd think I needed medication, but I really worked hard to make sure it would be perfect and now it isn't. And there's nothing I can do about it. And it makes me sad.
Here's the pictures of the lost cupcake picks:
And here's a pic of the invite and the cute little sleeves they came in (with horses and cows and pigs and chicks):
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
The Desire Prayer
I hadn't planned on writing today. I've had very little to write about at all this week. But I just returned home from a bible study I've started attending on most Tuesday evenings and felt compelled to share some sage counsel I received. As luck would have it, this return to a study was marked by another blessing - one of my dearest friends and a Godly accountability partner joined as well.
In the parking lot after the study she and I had the chance to visit for a bit and share what has been going on in our lives. I felt like this week I had a very clear message from God about something related to my children. However, in typical Type A "I can do it myself" form, I basically said Thanks God for that great idea, now let me go work myself and everyone into a frenzy trying to implement that plan. I really think if you looked up the definition of insanity, in someone's dictionary, my various plan implementations would be Exhibit A. So I was pouring all of this out and telling her that I really didn't WANT to take over what God was trying to do but I'm so plan-oriented and so activity focused that I didn't know how to STOP! So instead of my friend saying, let me get this straight, God gave you a word, and now you've STOLEN it from Him and you're making it some crazy earthly nutty distortion of His plan and you're worried sick it won't get done?!!?!?!?, she said this instead, Pray for the desire to be different. Pray for the desire to be obedient. Whatever it is you THINK you should be doing - obeying, listening, sitting quietly - put the words "give me the desire" in front of whatever that thing is.
I literally jumped out of my car and hugged her because I needed someone to whisper those words over my spirit. My out of control, worried, frenzied, Type A, disobedient spirit. I can't do it. Just like I can't make God's plan happen, I don't see all of it to begin with, only He does. I also can't, in my own power, make myself be a different person. I AM all of those things - worried, frenzied, out of control, focused on making things happen......and God knows me, this does not come as a shock to Him. But if I would ask Him for the DESIRE to be patient, to be quiet, to be obedient, to listen, then He will give me the supernatural tools to transform. I can't envision it, but I don't think I'm supposed to right now. So if you find yourself frustrated by your own efforts to take the wheel, instead of praying for God to make you let go, ask Him to give you the desire to hand it over. Wise counsel sweet friend. Thank you for being a messenger tonight.
Philippians 4 - I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.
Romans 7 - I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do...As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!
I Thessalonians 1 - With this in mind, we constantly pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling, and that by his power he may bring to fruition your every desire for goodness and your every deed prompted by faith. We pray this so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.
In the parking lot after the study she and I had the chance to visit for a bit and share what has been going on in our lives. I felt like this week I had a very clear message from God about something related to my children. However, in typical Type A "I can do it myself" form, I basically said Thanks God for that great idea, now let me go work myself and everyone into a frenzy trying to implement that plan. I really think if you looked up the definition of insanity, in someone's dictionary, my various plan implementations would be Exhibit A. So I was pouring all of this out and telling her that I really didn't WANT to take over what God was trying to do but I'm so plan-oriented and so activity focused that I didn't know how to STOP! So instead of my friend saying, let me get this straight, God gave you a word, and now you've STOLEN it from Him and you're making it some crazy earthly nutty distortion of His plan and you're worried sick it won't get done?!!?!?!?, she said this instead, Pray for the desire to be different. Pray for the desire to be obedient. Whatever it is you THINK you should be doing - obeying, listening, sitting quietly - put the words "give me the desire" in front of whatever that thing is.
I literally jumped out of my car and hugged her because I needed someone to whisper those words over my spirit. My out of control, worried, frenzied, Type A, disobedient spirit. I can't do it. Just like I can't make God's plan happen, I don't see all of it to begin with, only He does. I also can't, in my own power, make myself be a different person. I AM all of those things - worried, frenzied, out of control, focused on making things happen......and God knows me, this does not come as a shock to Him. But if I would ask Him for the DESIRE to be patient, to be quiet, to be obedient, to listen, then He will give me the supernatural tools to transform. I can't envision it, but I don't think I'm supposed to right now. So if you find yourself frustrated by your own efforts to take the wheel, instead of praying for God to make you let go, ask Him to give you the desire to hand it over. Wise counsel sweet friend. Thank you for being a messenger tonight.
Philippians 4 - I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.
Romans 7 - I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do...As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!
I Thessalonians 1 - With this in mind, we constantly pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling, and that by his power he may bring to fruition your every desire for goodness and your every deed prompted by faith. We pray this so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Sometimes Okay Is Good Enough
I went to a movie last night. I love movies. But since the trio arrived, I rarely get to see them. This year I've only seen two (so sad).......so, last night, after Bray got home, I went to see a movie I had really wanted to see even though critics trashed it.
In one scene, in this movie about a frenzied working mom, the husband and wife were fighting. She'd been running late from work and he had to go to a business meeting, so he called a last minute babysitter who fell asleep watching the kids. The wife was furious. The husband was too. And during the course of the fight, the husband said, "sometimes okay is good enough." No, the situation wasn't perfect. But it was okay. Everyone survived the snafu.
The statement really struck me. I am a competitive person, and the person I'm the most competitive with is myself. I'm always competing against the impossible standard of what I "should" do or be as a mother and wife and attorney. I've dreamed up what the perfect picture should be and I constantly fail. No matter how hard I work, I can't achieve this unrealistic goal. However, my competitive nature tells me if I just tried harder and slept less and did more then I could meet it. Eventually. And the real failure would be to stop trying to achieve that goal.
We women are terrible at this. Somehow, somewhere, we get an individualized notion of what perfect is and often feel horribly off the mark. One of the things I've been beating myself up about lately is cooking. I actually love to cook. I have no time. I throw something together for the kids when I get home but Bray and I often dine on cereal or watermelon or wine and crackers. It's pretty pitiful. I know LOTS of other moms who cook. Lovely beautiful healthful dinners for their family whom they clearly love more than I love mine OR I WOULD FIND TIME TO COOK DINNER! I'm working on it. My friend is making me a crock pot set of recipes to help me out. But I feel like a failure. I also hate my figure. I'm not naturally a lean person. I have to work my tail off and eat like a mouse to get fit. And I did that from last September to this June and then I took a break. I was exhausted from 5 am boot camps and spinach salads with grilled salmon. So I took a few months off boot camp. And I ate cupcakes and pizza and chicken enchiladas (these are the most delicious foods, it is hideous that they are so full of calories). And I've gained 10 pounds. (Truthfully, it's more like 12. In three months.) I get so exhausted from all the working out and watching everything I eat, but I know if I want to be a fit mom and wife then that's the only recipe that works. It's dispiriting.
But what if okay was good enough sometimes? What if I don't cook dinner every night but cook it a couple times a week? What if I'm permanently one size bigger than I want to be? What if I can't be the kids' room mom because I can't juggle it and work? What if I buy fruit already cut up at the store instead of creating my own display for their Halloween party? What if the counter has mail on it? What if okay was, well, okay?
Would I be less stressed? Would I be a happier mom? And easier wife? In this same movie I mentioned, the husband remarked one time out of frustration, Things are never quiet, they're never still. We don't ever just sit and talk. You never laugh at my jokes. Everything is so rushed.
Do you have that house? I do. I know that frenzied energy can be tough on my kids, on my husband. What if I temporarily stopped making lists I can never complete? What if I removed that idealized notion of a wife and mother and attorney and put in its place a realistic model, a wonderful model, but an achievable one? Let me encourage you, if you struggle with competing against perfection like I do, to join me in loosening our standards just a smidgen so that everyone enjoys life and home more.
Luke 10 - “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”
Matthew 11 - “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
Psalm 127 - Unless the LORD builds the house, the builders labor in vain. Unless the LORD watches over the city, the guards stand watch in vain. In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat— for he grants sleep to those he loves.
In one scene, in this movie about a frenzied working mom, the husband and wife were fighting. She'd been running late from work and he had to go to a business meeting, so he called a last minute babysitter who fell asleep watching the kids. The wife was furious. The husband was too. And during the course of the fight, the husband said, "sometimes okay is good enough." No, the situation wasn't perfect. But it was okay. Everyone survived the snafu.
The statement really struck me. I am a competitive person, and the person I'm the most competitive with is myself. I'm always competing against the impossible standard of what I "should" do or be as a mother and wife and attorney. I've dreamed up what the perfect picture should be and I constantly fail. No matter how hard I work, I can't achieve this unrealistic goal. However, my competitive nature tells me if I just tried harder and slept less and did more then I could meet it. Eventually. And the real failure would be to stop trying to achieve that goal.
We women are terrible at this. Somehow, somewhere, we get an individualized notion of what perfect is and often feel horribly off the mark. One of the things I've been beating myself up about lately is cooking. I actually love to cook. I have no time. I throw something together for the kids when I get home but Bray and I often dine on cereal or watermelon or wine and crackers. It's pretty pitiful. I know LOTS of other moms who cook. Lovely beautiful healthful dinners for their family whom they clearly love more than I love mine OR I WOULD FIND TIME TO COOK DINNER! I'm working on it. My friend is making me a crock pot set of recipes to help me out. But I feel like a failure. I also hate my figure. I'm not naturally a lean person. I have to work my tail off and eat like a mouse to get fit. And I did that from last September to this June and then I took a break. I was exhausted from 5 am boot camps and spinach salads with grilled salmon. So I took a few months off boot camp. And I ate cupcakes and pizza and chicken enchiladas (these are the most delicious foods, it is hideous that they are so full of calories). And I've gained 10 pounds. (Truthfully, it's more like 12. In three months.) I get so exhausted from all the working out and watching everything I eat, but I know if I want to be a fit mom and wife then that's the only recipe that works. It's dispiriting.
But what if okay was good enough sometimes? What if I don't cook dinner every night but cook it a couple times a week? What if I'm permanently one size bigger than I want to be? What if I can't be the kids' room mom because I can't juggle it and work? What if I buy fruit already cut up at the store instead of creating my own display for their Halloween party? What if the counter has mail on it? What if okay was, well, okay?
Would I be less stressed? Would I be a happier mom? And easier wife? In this same movie I mentioned, the husband remarked one time out of frustration, Things are never quiet, they're never still. We don't ever just sit and talk. You never laugh at my jokes. Everything is so rushed.
Do you have that house? I do. I know that frenzied energy can be tough on my kids, on my husband. What if I temporarily stopped making lists I can never complete? What if I removed that idealized notion of a wife and mother and attorney and put in its place a realistic model, a wonderful model, but an achievable one? Let me encourage you, if you struggle with competing against perfection like I do, to join me in loosening our standards just a smidgen so that everyone enjoys life and home more.
Luke 10 - “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”
Matthew 11 - “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
Psalm 127 - Unless the LORD builds the house, the builders labor in vain. Unless the LORD watches over the city, the guards stand watch in vain. In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat— for he grants sleep to those he loves.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Morning Commute
There's not much off limits for my blog, but there is one thing I leave off the table: direct conversations with my husband. Primarily because he is a private person and didn't sign up for having his conversations published. He'd probably stop speaking to me if I wrote about them. Secondarily, particularly if we're having a "discussion" about something, I think it is disrespectful to air those conversations publicly, and the one thing I try to do at all times (though I'm not always successful) is treat him respectfully. He deserves that.
The only reason I'm making an exception to the conversation rule this morning is because the conversation is not a dispute nor is it about any private matter of his or ours. It is, rather, pretty dang funny. Tuesday mornings, Bray and I are carpooling so the nanny can have the car to take our kids to school. Bray and I have quite different political opinions and we were listening to a political issue on the radio on the drive in. The conversation quickly veered to us each "offering" our political perspective on the issue. So as we near his office, after he'd given me a hard time about my political opinion and driving his truck (which I have, once, accidentally run into the parking garage), I said, "hey, you need to say something nice, my love language is words of affirmation." (A while back we read this book called The Five Love Languages and we discovered, not surprisingly, that we have different love languages.) So this is what I got in response, "you look nice this morning....{pregnant pause}, you look like you're going to a club." What the what? At 8 in the morning driving to work? The shirt underneath my khaki blazer did have some sparkle on it, and I have to admit neither one of us have been out lately so the trend may be to the more conservative in the party hot spots, but I wouldn't have spotted that one coming from a mile away. Note to self, don't force a compliment before he's finished his coffee. Well, really, don't force a compliment. Period.
The only reason I'm making an exception to the conversation rule this morning is because the conversation is not a dispute nor is it about any private matter of his or ours. It is, rather, pretty dang funny. Tuesday mornings, Bray and I are carpooling so the nanny can have the car to take our kids to school. Bray and I have quite different political opinions and we were listening to a political issue on the radio on the drive in. The conversation quickly veered to us each "offering" our political perspective on the issue. So as we near his office, after he'd given me a hard time about my political opinion and driving his truck (which I have, once, accidentally run into the parking garage), I said, "hey, you need to say something nice, my love language is words of affirmation." (A while back we read this book called The Five Love Languages and we discovered, not surprisingly, that we have different love languages.) So this is what I got in response, "you look nice this morning....{pregnant pause}, you look like you're going to a club." What the what? At 8 in the morning driving to work? The shirt underneath my khaki blazer did have some sparkle on it, and I have to admit neither one of us have been out lately so the trend may be to the more conservative in the party hot spots, but I wouldn't have spotted that one coming from a mile away. Note to self, don't force a compliment before he's finished his coffee. Well, really, don't force a compliment. Period.
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